One reason Paul caught more fish than anyone else was that he had his flies in the water more than anyone else. "Brother," he would say, "there are no flying fish in Montana. Out here, you can't catch fish with your flies in the air."
~Norman Maclean

Friday, March 26, 2010

Steelhead

So..........

Last week Jake and I went up to Salmon steelheading. Jake with gear and I on the fly. We perused the river a little in the morning trying to decide where to go. Jake decided he like the hole right under the bridge in town. So he "utahed" his way in and promptly got into double digits in fish (and he actually landed some too). We must have seen over 60 fish come out of that hole in an hour.

Being on a fly rod I went up above the hole away from the elbow to elbow crowds, but I didn't get any bites. The weather was incredible. Must have been near 60 all day. Forecast had called for rain. We didn't see hardly any clouds let alone any raindrops.

After about an hour we jumped into the boat and floated down to Carmen. I tied into one nice steelie at the Lemhi hole. Fought him for a while and then he spit me. We made it down to Carmen then went up rivers a ways and fished till dusk. Tally for the day: 2 suckers, 2 whitefish and one almost steelhead.

I will be heading up around Ellis in the next little while. Need to tie some flies this weekend.

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About Me: Jabberwock

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.